


The Nature and Philosophy of Dragons

by mothchan



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adopted Children, Elf Culture & Customs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, No Smut, Orphans, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Romantic Gestures, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slice of Life, Spoilers, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothchan/pseuds/mothchan
Summary: Discuss.(No NSFW. Feel free to provide recommendations & ideas for this -- it has been a while since I've written.)





	1. Smoldering Coals

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Teluri Helbreth's crimson eyes bore into the Jarl's eyes, her eyes smoldering like coal and burning deep into the leaders of the Stormcloak rebellion at his comment.

"How dare you bring a filthy Imperial, a weakling, into the halls of Windhelm?" Her eyes to shot to Lucien Flavius' deep blue eyes, before cracking her neck and eyeing Ulfric, Killer of Kings and racist fiasco. "He has been my companion for many a months. You shall not insult him. You dare take down his honor, I will shout you into pieces. You shouting Torygg into pieces was a mere rumor, but I, Dragonborn.. I can do it of ease. Do not insult him."

 

Ulfric's chapped lips were wrinkled into a sneer, and Galmar Stone-Fist clenched onto his Steel Sword at the Dark Elf's threat, eyeing her with caution before Jarl Ulfric had moved his hand aside, shieling Galmar from making anymore movement. "Alright, Dragonborn. What is your purpose to come here and threaten me, Jarl of Windhelm?" The Dark Elf, Teluri smirked, ferocious and animalistic befitting of her dragon blood coursing through her Dunmer veins. "Ah, yes. The sole purpose of this... I have come on side to the Greybeards for a peace council for a momentary truce between both you and General Tullius."

The Jarl's eyes nearly bulged from his wrinkled face, letting out a condescending chortle. "Me? In the room with that Talos-hating filth? No. Absolutely not." Teluri Helbreth let out a shaking sigh, holding back a shout with lethal intent. "General Tullius has already agreed to my terms. Are you so pigheaded to refuse acknowledgement of the dovah -- dragon, Alduin, the Eater of Worlds? Fool!" As her voice increased in range, the walls began shaking with her might, her eyes glinting with golden stripes, as Lucien grasped her arms from her Daedric Sword of Winter, holding her back from attacking the Jarl and having herself thrown in a cell promptly for an entirely different mission. 

"Shh. It's okay." As he had finally broke his eerie, peaceful silence, Lucien's eyes peered up at Ulfric Stormcloak with a fierce determination. "I do believe you have taunted the Dragonborn quite enough, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. I mean no... refutation, but I do believe we must be on a hurry." As he gently grabbed the Dark Elf's shaking limbs, he guided her out with a firm but comforting grip before staring deeply into her dark eyes, as if he were speaking to a frightened, defensive animal. "Why have you been so uptight today, Teluri? I mean no offense, but after Miraa--"

 

Helbreth cut him off promptly, raising a grey hand to silence him. "I fear for myself, Lucien. Each day, I feel this soul.. the soul of Dovah, running through me and it's dominance to take over the world. I am scared. Horrified. I refuse to end up like Miraak, a mere pawn but a destructive beast. I do not..." She cut herself off, in fear that if she had continued, she may actually begin to cry in front of her dear friend. "Teluri! My friend. You are far from a beast... you may be impulsive and brash at times, but you are no monster." Teluri clenched her fist, ripping his grip from her arm with ease. "Don't you see?! I was never an impulsive person. I was the epitome of calm and collected... this filthy monstrous soul inside me has changed that. His taunts were true. I am but another pawn of destruction, much like the First Dragonborn before me. I may have killed him, like anyone else in my way, but his words ring true." 

Wiping her eyes with fierce determination, wanting to stray strong in front of him, as he wrapped his arms firmly around her back, pulling her close into his armor and brushing his now calloused, scholarly fingers through her jet black hair. She could feel his muscles ripple through his firm and comforting embrace, a new gift he boasts about thanks to his rigorous training. At his touch, she let out a choked, garbled sob, burying her nose in his chest and refusing eye contact. "Please don't let me lose myself, Lucien. I don't want to be the monster I hate so much."

 

He let out a deep breath through his nostrils, his beard tickling her scalp as he breathed in, keeping her close still yet. "I won't let you succumb to that nature. Your true nature is loving and patient, as you had to be with me so I was not a burden, Teluri Helbreth. It was a honor to travel alongside you, and I am determined to learn more of this Skyrim while I get to. You have shown me an entirely different world with your protection and training instead of staying in a dingy scholar's room. You brought me into the true experience of adventure." As she went to pull away, sniffling and wiping her eyes, he pulled her back in gently. "Let us just stay here for a bit. It seems you needed a hug. I think we all need one sometimes, no?"

 

As they rested a bit in the snowflakes sprinkling along in her jet black hair, he held her close. Lucien's heart beat against his chest rapidly, and it was soothing to the Last Dragonborn's sensitive, elven ears. Closing her eyes once more, she leaned in more fully and against her freewill, fell asleep standing up. Lucien glanced down at her form, sensing her limpness and lack of response. "Goodness! You must've been tired, huh...? It'll be okay. I promise." 

 

Lucien Flavius gently carried her smaller form in his arms, his body familiar with weight thanks to her vicious training she gave him. As he laid her down, swiftly ordering a tavern room, he leaned against a chair, sighing heavily as he went through the time they had spent together. Lucien's heart warmed as it pounded pleasantly against his chest, staring at her tiny form, her face no longer placed in a perpetual scowl but a peaceful little smile in contrast to her snarky quips. 

 

He leaned in a bit to the bed, remaining silent, and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, stroking her cheek before leaning back into the chair, remaining gentlemanly as there was only a bed and slowly let his mind wonder, falling into unconsciousness into the chair as time flew by, his eyes closed peacefully from the stress of today, preparing his mind for the morrow.


	2. A Little Bit of Sunshine

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Her eyes blearily opened, rubbing her eyes as she looked around cautiously, a habit after joining the Dark Brotherhood as Listener for a period of time. Teluri grunted, clearing her throat as she eyed the chair next to her, a small and fond smile poking her scarred cheek. Lucien was softly snoring, soft puffs of breath as he was curled next to her bed, hand resting on the furs as if reaching to her. The Dunmer watched him for a few moments, taking in his eye bags - as well as his own little smile curved on his face whilst he rest.

As much as she could remain in this moment, they had work to do. She gently uncrossed her legs from position, got up, and gently shook him - an uncommonly affectionate voice rousing him from the rest. "Lucien.. Lucien.. You have to wake up. We have things to do, okay?" He groaned softly, curling away from the noise and huffing as he rubbed his eyes. "Do we have to? We have another day in this tavern!"

He never once complained throughout their journey, merely questioning her choices, albeit quietly and avoiding offending the wild elf next to him. She poked his cheek with a thin, spindled finger. "Hey. Get up. I won't ask again.. The ice bucket is my most fierce weapon." 

Her voice remained uncommonly patient, his ears perked to the sound of her voice. He stretched his pale arms, huffing softly and getting up from the wooden chair - uncomfortable, it seemed to be. Teluri watched him for a few moments, before nodding to him as she went to fetch her armor. A fair set of ebony plate, her lithe body eased into it as she bucked it with clear, swift fingers. She latched her buckler to her side, and held the Nightingale Blade to her hip, idly swinging from her waist. 

 

Helbreth looked behind her back, nodding to the Imperial and beginning to shift down the stairs, her boots lightly clicking against the wooden floors. If she pleased, she could remain silent, but she felt no requirement to be on guard at the tavern. Until she heard a roar.

Teluri Helbreth groaned loudly, flailing her arms dramatically. "Can we get one damned day off? Mephala guide me..." She slapped her forehead angrily, her jagged scar on her cheek squeezing as she frowned. She looked to Lucien, now at her side before nodding. "You ready to kill another one of these scaly bastards, eh?" He crossed his arms, his glare only halfhearted. "You know, a year ago? I would have laughed in your face if you told me we would be renounced dragonslayers! By the Eight... Fine, fine. Let's go, shall we? I'm right behind you, as always."

The Dark Elf nodded, a pearly white smirk on her face before hopping joyously at the aspect of absorbing the warmth of a soul of Dov once more. It was soothing, like a mother's embrace. As she walked outside, the freezing snow hit her face with vigorous wind, which she did not show any discomfort as a fireball warmed her hands. She remembered Miraak's unemotional, unmoving voice from his mask before shouting angrily at the dragon, newfound ferocity embedding in her veins. 

"Zii los di duu, Dovah!" It filled her with pride of the alike pronunciation, the words flowing with ease from her chilly lips. Her hands flung the fireball from her grasp, directly hitting the Ancient Dov in the leg as it snarled at her Dovahzul. It lifted its wings and flapped them mightily, his slitted eyes glaring down at the tiny Dunmer and firing a blast of cold ice at her small form. It did not hit her, as Lucien came up and shielded her with Shieldbreaker, as Teluri gained pride of many Daedric entities. 

 

Shieldbreaker bounced off the ice harmlessly, although chips of ice flung from behind and sliced her cheek with ease. She huffed at Lucien's interference, protectiveness burning in her heart before she relented her momentary glare at him as the dragon began to land.

 

It's heavy body shook the ground as snow flew in all directions, the mighty snout of Dov pointed towards her. "You have slain my brethren with ease. My teeth to your neck.. Dovahkiin!" It attempted to bite down on her swift form, before she hopped up and shouted in its direction. "FUS... RO DAH! You shall not win today. I am the mightier dragon!" As the words flew from her mouth, her red eyes widened and she shook her head, Teluri slamming down the blade against its neck, eye, and latching onto his neck with shaking arms.

 

"You are nothing but a bug. A metaphorical bug, as you are a gigantic bloodthirsty beast. We are different. We.. are.. different!" With a final war cry, she had nudged the Nightingale Blade through its cranium and she fell to the ground as the scales began disintegrating to mere skeletal remains, the soul whispering and fading around her, then inside. It was not a warm embrace... the soul felt like a stabbing blade. A cold one. She huffed against the ground, eyeing Lucien with his sleek Elven bow. She lifted up her head, just to speak softly.

"It hurts. It hurts. It hurts." Teluri Helbreth repeated helplessly, letting out a pained moan. She had no visible injuries, but her head was in great pain as she wailed into the air. It was drowned out by cheers.

"Hail the Dragonborn! Hail she! Hail she! Dragonborn! Dragonborn!"

It filled her with existential dread, as she eyed Lucien. His eyes were disappointed, a faint but painful emotion showing in his eyes. Care. He walked over to her, then jogging, and then running. He held out his hand, and the elf finally let the tears fall helplessly as he shielded her from the view of the townsfolk. "It's alright.." 

She sniffled against his armor as it dug into her cheek, curling against him. "How many times are you going to have to comfort me, until I get to do it for you?" More flaring tears came from her eyes, sniffling pitifully. "I'm sorry.. I really am. I used to be so strong, huh?" He scoffed, a foreign emotion from the generally optimistically pacifist man. "Hush, alright? You're the strongest person I know, silly."

 

The needless shouting of the villagers faded, as he gently guided her to the gates out of Windhelm, their roles reversed. He was going to be her rock for a while, it seems.


	3. Petrichor

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As they got back to Whiterun, Teluri eyed Lucien for a bit too long to be considered normal in etiquette. "Should we get a house?"

"... What?"

"A house. Somewhere to stay after a long journey."

 

She flailed her arms dramatically, almost hitting the poor Imperial man in the face. "If you want, I mean! Is that what you've been saving for?" At his well-done deduction, she grinned sharp pearly whites. "Correct! I.. well.. Damn it. Give me a second! Wait here."

Lucien Flavius would cross his arms then, eyeing her with a side brow as she sprinted up deftly to Dragonsreach with awe-inspiring speed. She came back with significantly more empty pockets, a few measly septims lingering in her leather knapsack. "It had furnishings as an option to be built in, too."

And so, they waited eagerly in The Bannered Mare's tavern for a while. They had grown used to curling up together, especially because Teluri was so warm. And, well.. Lucien was quite the cuddler in his deep sleep, in which he vehemently denied and blushed over.

By the time their furniture had been placed, she had left a room empty. "Alchemical room..? Hmm.." Her ashen cheek was poked as she grumpily eyed Lucien, her introverted side showing with ease. As she was walking past the Gildergreen, the Dunmer opened a side eye to the small, frail girl in a green dress. Had she been in the town before...? As she mused to herself, the little girl shyly spoke to the Dark Elf, with no snide comments of her elven ears, or her ashen skin. "Lady.. can you spare a coin?" 

Her heart clenched painfully, remembering her own time as an orphan before she was adopted by a pair of Nords, which is why she was as vulgar as one. She sat down next to the girl - Lucia, she found it to be, and handed her two gleaming gold coins. "Thank you so much... C-Can you be my mother?" The naive, soft question shook her to the core. "Pardon? No. I'll be back, hold on a second, kid."

And the Dunmer was sprinting up the stairs again with vigor, her hood flinging back and her ears drew back as she opened up the doors to Dragonsreach. "Alright, Proventus. Give me a child's bedroom."

"O-Of course, Dragonborn..." He had stopped denying her power and gift as soon as she had used the three words of power in Unrelenting Force at the table. It was a miracle that the Jarl had permitted her to stay, after that, but he had chuckled and told her to clean it up. Teluri did.

She sprinted back downstairs as she threw 200 gold pieces to the man, bending down to Lucia's height and frame once she had reached the bench. "You're coming with me, okay?" 

 

Lucien was leaned against the wooden tower of one of the shops, closing his eyes and waiting for Teluri Helbreth to return. He grumbled as his blue eyes opened at the bright sky, hearing giggles of glee and raspy, feminine chuckles. The orphaned child, Lucia, was sitting atop the mighty Dragonborn's shoulders with ease and pulling her ears as if she were a steed riding into war. To the right of the two, he saw a couple of Whiterun guards struggling with a bed with furs, a chest, and a whole collection of dolls and dresses for what he assumed to be, for Lucia.

Teluri sobered immediately as she gently guided Lucia to her house, almost running into Lydia on the way in to Breezehome. As Lucien followed quietly behind her in awe at how skilled she was with children, despite her rough exterior, Teluri bent down.

"Now.. Lucia. I cannot be the mother you hoped for. Lydia will take care of you, I promise. You'd be better off calling her ''mum'', instead. She will always be here, or almost always, to take care of you. Her stews are amazing, and she's good at baking, yeah..? I have some business to take care of, and I just want you safe."

Lucia sniffled, blearily eyeing the Dunmer with hazel, wide eyes. "I want you!" She wailed, holding onto her knees despite the armor digging into the poor girl's small body. As Teluri gently stroked her back as she cried, she mumbled Dunmeri phrases of adoration into her ears. "I will be your mother, but I won't hold ill will if you decide Lydia is a better fit." Her crimson gaze bore into Lydia's as she gently lifted Lucia with ease, the Nord girl barely moving as she had cried herself to sleep. Her form was skinny, likely from malnutrition.

And so Teluri carried Lucia to the bed, frowning at the fact there was two in total in the child's bedroom. Her grey lips kissed the forehead, and covered her up with an inane form of motherly instincts. She closed the door with the skill and silence of an assassin, smiling softly at her automatic snores.

Teluri sat down in the kitchen, rubbing the back of her head and covering her face back up with the black hood. "Have you ever wanted to settle down, Lucien?" He blanched. She knew he was there, despite his silence? Dang assassins...

He smiled though, regardless. "Someday. I'm pretty good at settling, you know." Her faint, quiet melancholic chuckles filled the room. "I have lived for one-hundred years, Lucien. I once had a husband, he was a stereotypical Nord. I cannot have children, and he left me... Thirteen years later, he was an older man and even had grandchildren. I gave up at some point. Now that I am considered the mantle and savior of Nirn, how can I ever dedicate myself to having a family?"

Her knees drew up to her chin, and he looked at her gobsmacked. She had been through a lot..and her hurt, hurt him. He sat down next to her, biting his lip in frustration and inability to come up with his normal coherency and philosophical wisdom. He carefully grabbed her chin, looking into her watery molten eyes. "You still have time, you know. Lucia is your second chance. Take it."

Sniffling, Teluri felt salty tears run down her chin against to her chagrin. She felt his calloused thumb gently caress them away, as she curled into his comforting chest. "Thank you.. Lucien. I - Nevermind."

And so, they just sat there, curled into eachother. Lucien wondered what she was going to say, and Teluri was self-depreciating herself internally at her inability to be honest to her growing mound of feelings.

Lydia was standing there, as still as a statue, before groaning in a deadpan voice. Teluri could not see her face from her position, but she could imagine the eye roll she was receiving.

"I am sworn to carry your burdens."


End file.
